But a Little Moment
by Twyla Mercedes
Summary: Rumbelle Valentine's Day Contest (2016) Fluff and mayhem ensue when Rumple attempts to prepare a special meal for his Lady but is interrupted by an unwelcome guest, burnt food and a conflagration.


**But a Little Moment**

 **Valentine's Day Rumbelle Contest**

 **Prompts: Hearts, Roses and Red**

 **This story is an aside to _Some Soul of Goodness_. If you aren't reading that story, this is a world wherein Belle is the Dark One and she has acquired Rumple the Spinner as her servant. Their relationship has slowly grown and, at this time, they have become quite special to each other, enjoying both physical and intellectual companionship.**

 **Oh yeah, they've also acquired a pet dragon lizard and are living in the Enchanted Forest.**

Rumple had it all planned out.

It was going to be perfect.

Candlemas, as his people called it, was that special day between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It was the time when candles were lit to encourage the weakened sunlight to burn brighter and longer. It was the time to celebrate the re-birth of the virgin goddess when her lover, the Green Man would come to awaken her with a kiss; she, in turn, would then come around to all the homes in the village to bless them for the coming year. He recalled how some of the locals would rouse a whistlepig and set it loose, interpreting its actions as a prediction for how much winter weather was left in the season. It was at this time, were he at home, he would be helping with the birthing of lambs and kids and helping to prepare the garden for spring planting.

This time of year was also the time for lovers to express their affection for each other. He had learned that Belle's people had celebrated this last part of the sacred holiday, calling it Valentine's Day after a well-respected cleric of their kingdom who was renown as a matchmaker and patron of lovers.

The Dark Lady was quick to accept his invitation for a little celebratory meal for that evening and Rumple had been hard at work preparing traditional foods from the Frontlands for the special event.

He so wanted it to be perfect.

He was preparing a special seed bread with honey-butter, potato soup with fresh cream, some plump little choux that he'd grown in the vegetable garden and he was giving special attention to what he hoped would be his best ever roasted chicken. He was most excited to present a new specialty he had developed – he thought of it as _chocolate cake_ , a dessert he had spent long hours perfecting using the exotic ingredient the Lady had brought home from one of her outings.

He was planning to fill the room with creamy white roses, having _asked_ the Lady's ever-blooming plants to produce an abundance of these blossoms, her favorite, several weeks ago. The contrary rose bushes had been surprisingly agreeable to the task, the weather never being a deterrent to their own determination. The bushes had complied with a plethora of lush, fat flowers with a sweet, light fragrance. He was also planning, as according to long tradition, to fill the room with soft white candles. For the final touch, he was using some rich red table linens and room dressings that he had found in one of the many backrooms of the castle. He felt the bright red along with the sweet white roses fit well with the themes of the holiday.

Everything was falling into place. It was going to be a perfect celebration.

It was late afternoon and he surveyed the Great Dining Room. The rosy red linen cloths on the table, the deep red velvet cushions on the chairs, and the gleaming red damask hangings on the walls, all gave the room a hot brightness to the tarnish of the dark winter season. He'd even found a length of shimmering red silk that he had draped around the hard black iron chandelier. He had already placed candles all around the room in preparations for having them lit during the meal, both for the holiday itself, but also because it would lend favorable lighting for an intimate supper. Rumple had decided that he would bring the vases of roses which he'd augmented with mixed greenery into the room right before the meal.

In the kitchen, the bread and the cake were baking, the chicken was roasting, the potato soup was simmering, and the choux were boiling. It was a sweet and savory combination that smelled delicious. Everything was almost ready.

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

He was stirring the soup when he heard a pounding on the front gate. _That was odd. Who could have come through Milady's wards and made it all the way in?_ He dusted off his hands and went to the great doors, all the while still hearing the pounding and, now, some shouting.

He could hear, "Let me in! Belle, let me iiiin! My heaaaart is breaaaaking!" A woman's voice. He opened the door.

"Oh Belle, thank goodness you're home!" A tall woman with golden-red hair burst into the hallway. Then she stopped and looked around. "Where the hell is Belle?" Then she looked Rumple over. "And, oh my, who are you?" her body and attitude abruptly changed as she approached the startled spinner. "Aren't you a delicious little treat."

"What do you want, Zelena?" Both Rumple and Zelena turned to see Belle standing in the middle of the room. _She must have teleported in._

"Oh Belle!" Zelena ran over to her, suddenly blubbering. "My heart is crushed! I thought I'd found the right one, but then, bwamaw and wawwananaton the one I could spend forever with, or roeroewiay . . . " she sniffed, "at least a year or so."

"What happened, dearie?" Belle asked her, leading Zelena over to one of the dining room chairs.

"Well," Zelena wiped her nose on her sleeve and continued, now with large tears trailing down her face. "I'd been seeing this man, dis say ee day but sweet uuuu know? And I was so ruuuaway snad no tib and answaysway starmaudewayand so or mooooving in or just reganusome sadinnerwray naaregur dinaday, but all suusuu den day . . . " she burst into a fresh round of tears. "He wenn back sadenoden just a nootendenden, 'It's been fun'."

Rumple had not understood a half of what the woman was blubbering on about but apparently Belle was following the hysterical tirade. As best he understood the woman had been in a relationship with a man that had ended badly.

"Oh, you poor dear," Belle's tone sounded more automatic than genuinely sympathetic _to Rumple's knowing ear_. "You know men should not be depended upon."

"I don't understand why nothing _ever, ever_ works out for me. I keep trying but . . . " Zelena broke down into a fresh gale of sobs.

"Rumple," Belle looked up at him. "Why don't you bring Zelena here some wine? I'll get her a potion that will help her get some rest."

Rumple nodded watching Belle disappear in a swirl of purple smoke. He made his way back to the kitchen intent on getting a bottle of wine from Milady's stash and a glass to serve it in. His first indication that he'd been followed was a hand on his rear end . . . squeezing him through his leather pants. He yelped and, turning around, he found Zelena was standing immediately behind him. It was her hand that had been placed on his rump.

"Excuse me," he said quite uncomfortable with her proximity and the predatory stance she seemed to have adopted. He attempted to move back from the cloying woman.

"Oh, now pet, you don't have to be in such a hurry to get away," she purred putting her hand on his arm, all indications of either distress or tears gone. "I've not seen you around here before. Are you just her servant or perhaps her newest paramour?" she traced her other hand down his face.

Rumple knew this woman possessed magic and instinctively he felt she was unpredictable _and dangerous._

"I . . .I don't want to keep Milady waiting," he told her continuing to inch away from her.

She stepped in, trapping him between herself and the cabinets, bringing her face next to his. "I really like the leather pants. You pick those out yourself or are they something Belle makes you wear? Tell me, does she keep your heart in a jar or do you still have it for the taking?"

"Madame . . ." he began, very uncomfortable. _He felt that he was beginning to sweat._

"Oh, you can call me Zelena. And you can call me anytime," she allowed the hand that had just caressed his cheek to splay down his chest. "You smell really nice." And now she was trying to bury her nose on his neck.

"Madame!" he was now alarmed. _How does one go about extricating oneself from an amorous loosely hinged sorceress?_ "I. . . I've got your wine," He stammered, holding the bottle and wine glass in front of himself, attempting to use the objects as a feeble bulwark against the ardent witch.

Now he was completely backed up against the cabinets and had nowhere to flee. Zelena had her hands on his chest and his arm. He was trying desperately to dodge her efforts to plant a kiss on his face.

"Zelena!"

They both turned to Belle who had come into the room.

"I'll thank you to leave my servant alone," Belle told her coldly. "And, in case you're wondering, I've put a spell on him to keep his heart in his own chest, where it belongs."

"Oh, is he special to you, then?" Zelena asked her.

"Yes. He keeps the place clean, cooks and does the laundry. You may rest assured that he's quite special to me," Belle told her. "Now let him do his job."

"Oh Belle. You're not bedding him then? But, he's so preeetty and smells soooo good, like cinnamon and honey." Zelena wasn't giving up easily.

"Zelena," Belle didn't raise her voice but there was a definite implied threat to her tone.

Zelena sighed. "All right then," and she allowed her hand one last sweep over Rumple's torso nearly brushing against his crotch before stepping away from him.

Belle had already gone through the door back to the Dining Room.

"Later, darling," Zelena whispered to Rumple right before she trailed after Belle.

He shuddered and, keeping his distance, followed her on back out to the Dining Room. Zelena had sat back down and she was crying again, sniveling and _he thought_ telling Belle more about how difficult relationships were for her, how she just couldn't seem to meet the right man.

Belle was nodding sympathetically. "Now Zelena, you're a powerful woman. You can amuse yourself with just about any man you desire."

"Well I know I could take their hearts but they always seem so _empty_ after I do that. I want someone to want meeee without having to use magic," she whined.

"If Milady will allow me," Rumple spoke up deferentially. Both women turned to him. He poured some wine for Zelena. "Perhaps if the Lady Zelena would allow the man to pursue . . . a little. Many men like to _feel_ that they are the pursuers or, at least, that the association with the lady is their idea." Both women were looking at him now.

He took a deep breath and continued. "You're a beautiful woman, Lady Zelena. Many men would find you desirable. If you sit back, they will come to you."

Her eyes widened, "Really?!" she asked him.

Belle handed her a potion. "It's something new to try," Belle encouraged her. "I think if you get a good night's sleep, well, things may look differently in the morning. You and I can have a longer chat then."

Zelena nodded and drank the potion, chasing it with a glass of wine. "You two are so niiiice," she slurred, the potion taking effect quickly. Soon Zelena slumped to the table.

Belle looked at Rumple and sighed. "I'm sorry about all this. I barely know this woman, but she seems to think I'm her friend. I'm going to put her in one of the spare bedrooms and lock the door. She won't bother us until the morning." And Belle smiled and waved her hands to dispose of the unwelcome guest. "We can still have our supper whenever you are ready," she smiled at him and he felt warmed all over.

 _Warmed all over! Oh no!_

He turned and ran back to the kitchen. _Damn, damn, damn!_

Dealing with Zelena had caused him to lose track of time. Sure enough, the chicken was burnt. The bread was burnt. He slammed the oven door. The choux had overcooked and were indelibly bitter. The cake had fallen _he realized this had probably just happened when in frustration he'd slammed the oven door_. The soup . . . he tasted it. And spit it out

"What's wrong?" Belle asked him from the doorway of the kitchen.

"I don't want to talk about it," he told her, plopping himself down in a chair.

Belle came in and stood by him, not saying anything, just standing beside him, her fingers combing through his hair.

"Supper's ruined," he finally managed to tell her. He was heartsick. "I spent so much time in preparation and now we have burnt chicken and burnt bread and foul little cabbages and . . . and a fallen cake. And I don't understand why the soup is ruined too, but it's curdled, bitter, as if the milk had soured."

Belle briefly closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Rumple. Zelena's a witch and milk spoils in her presence. I had no idea she would follow you in here."

"She grabbed my . . . " Rumple hesitated. He'd always thought of the Dark Lady as a lady and he tried to find an acceptable term. "She grabbed my . . . ." Rumple floundered for a moment and then ended up patting his own posterior.

"Did she now?" Belle couldn't contain a slight smile.

Rumple continued, "She tried to . . . she . . . uh . . . ."

"I can imagine," Belle told him dryly. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't expecting her to drop by and I certainly didn't think she would try to molest you here in my own home." Belle hesitated, "You know when I said you were just a servant . . . . "

"You were protecting me. I know." He stood and took her hands. "I know there is more between us than Mistress and Servant. And you know that I could have no interest in anyone like her." He called her by her name in his earnestness, "Belle, she actually rather repulses me."

Belle smiled. "I'm not threatened by Zelena." Belle went over to the oven and sampled some of the burnt chicken. "But I think she fancies you for the moment and I'm going to do my best to keep you two separated."

Rumple nodded in agreement and then turned back to the stove. "Let me see if I can salvage anything from this fiasco."

"I'll help," Belle told him and she proceeded to help him pick off unburnt pieces of chicken. Then she began to cut off the burnt crusts of the bread. Rumple scrounged up a quick salad with winter greens, some chopped apples, cheese and some nuts to replace the ruined choux. The two carried their salvaged food, including the pan containing the fallen cake, out to the table which he'd set earlier.

"Let me get the candles lit, please," he said to her, then called out, "Kari!" The little dragonet flew to his hand and welcomed him petting her. "You little scaredy cat," he jokingly chastised her. "I saw how quickly you went to hide when that . . . that witch came in the house." The dragonet trilled and keened, quite self-satisfied with her own actions. Rumple continued talking to the little dragon, "She's locked in a room now. So, I think you're quite safe. Will you light all my candles, please?" he asked the dragonet holding up one of the candles to help her understand.

Little Kari nodded and threw a well-aimed, narrow spout of flame at the wick. He patted her head, called her a "Good girl" and set her off so she could light the many candles scattered all over the room.

While Kari was flying about lighting all the candles, Rumple asked Belle to take a seat, holding out a chair for his Lady. "I have another small touch for this dinner," and he went back into the kitchen and returned with two vases of lush roses, their fresh cream color set off by the darker fragrant greenery he had added to the vases. He set them on the table and then he made three more trips, filling the room with vases of beautiful, plush roses.

"These are my favorite," Belle told him amazed at the sheer number of blossoms with which he filled the room. "They are beautiful!"

"A dozen dozen," he told her. Kari was now finished with lighting the candles, including the ones Rumple had put up on the rafters and she flew down to the table to join the couple.

"Thank you, Kari," Rumple told the little queen. "That was an excellent job and very helpful."

Kari preened, stretching out and then . . . she drew back and gave a little sneeze, a brief flash of fire coming from her maw.

"Bless you," Belle told the dragonet.

Kari sniffed and sneezed again, more flames shooting out. Then she sneezed again, this time more forcefully, emitting even more flames which caught one of the folded red napkins on fire. Rumple was able to use his hand and swat the fire out. But Kari continued to sneeze, each time more violently than the last and each time emitting more and more flames, catching other napkins on fire, the table cloth, the chandelier draping. Distressed, the little dragon began to frantically fly around the room shooting flames into the curtains, the wall hangings, eventually even catching the rug, all of these rapidly succumbing and beginning to burn.

"She must be allergic to the roses or some of this greenery!" Rumple shouted.

"Whatever," Belle shouted back. "Get her out of here! I'll take care of the fires!"

Rumple managed to coax the now hysterical Kari onto his arm and, only catching his clothes on fire twice, managed to get her out of the room, back into the sitting chamber. The little dragonet was very upset, continuing to hiccup and snort flames. He sat for a while, petting her, talking softly to her, soothing her, assuring her that no one was angry with her. He convinced her to retire to the Lady's bedroom and she sniffed and flew up the staircase. _He certainly hoped her sneezing fit was over or she would set the bedclothes alight._

Rumple now returned to the Dining Room. He stopped at the door, agape at the sight that was before him.

The room was now a mess of charred table linens, scorched rugs, and singed curtains. The formerly robust roses were now keeled over in their vases, blackened and shedding petals. Along with the smoking rubble of shards of silk, velvet and damask, there were now pools of water scattered throughout the room and the Lady was sitting, disheveled, sighing, her hair drenched and her clothes soaked through from any number of water sprays that she had set loose on the room. She held the chipped cup in her hand.

"I don't want to talk about it," she told him sitting still in the middle of the chaos.

"I wasn't going to ask," he finally said looking the room over slowly, astonished at the amount of destruction that lay before him.

"I'd really prefer not to talk about it," the Lady told him again taking a swig of something from her cup.

Rumple nodded and came on into the room, picking his way around the sodden remains of the water-soaked food and ruined blackened cloths. He sat down next to the Lady.

After a while, she spoke. "I forgot that dragon fire is not like regular fire."

"Uh hummm," he replied. He could see that she had put wine into her cup.

"Water . . . water just makes it mad," she added more to her explanation.

"I believe I understand," he nodded sagely. "You tried to use water and it . . . it just got worse."

She sighed and took another drink. She sniffed. "The water, because it was _magic water_ , well, it decided to fight back and it took me a while to get things separated and . . . fixed."

"Yeah, I kinda figured something like that had happened," he told her gently.

"Here," she said to Rumple, pouring him a glass of wine. Belle then poured the water out of the cake pan and reached in to get some of the cake with her fingers. She savored it and told him, "It may not be pretty, but this cake is delicious. How is Kari?"

"She's calm now. I'm guessing one of the greens I put in the roses set her off. Roses haven't bothered her before. Poor thing, she feels like she ruined our dinner. I tried to help her understand that this just wasn't meant to be." Rumple took a drink and dipped his hand into the cake pan to taste some of his cake effort. "This is good, kinda gooey," he told Belle and gestured for her to come and sit in his lap. She complied, nestling in against his chest.

The two sat in the ruins of the Dark Castle's Dining room, drinking wine and eating cake with their fingers.

"I like this, being close to you," Belle told him. She relished the heat of his body as it surrounded her, basking in it.

He wrapped his arms around her. "I like it too." Her slight feminine form always held an appeal to him and he always enjoyed being able to set his hands upon her.

Belle leaned into him and relaxed, "I'm so sorry. This was all my fault."

"How do you figure that?" he asked her, stroking her arm and inhaling the sweet scent of her hair.

"It was one of my friends, well, Zelena's not exactly a friend, but someone I know, who showed up unannounced and caused you to get distracted and burn the meal."

"But I was the one that brought in the dragon-sneeze weed," he told her.

"But I was the one who forgot how to put out dragon fire."

"I think," he kissed her nose. "I think there is enough responsibility and blame to go around. I'll certainly forgive you if you forgive me."

"But you worked so hard to make everything perfect. This is probably your worst Valentine's Day ever," she told him.

"No," he told her looking deeply into her eyes. "No, Milady. This is probably my best Valentine's Day ever."

He thought that she might have had tears welling up in her eyes _except she was the Dark One and did not readily, if ever, shed tears._ As it was, her lower lip was trembling.

"Really? "she asked in her little girl voice.

"Really," he confirmed. "There may be chaos and mayhem all around us, but for this little moment, it's perfection. The day is not about flowers or candles or even chocolate cake. It's about letting someone know how you truly feel about them."

"I _am_ glad I have you to spend it with," she set her arms up and around his shoulders and kissed him lightly.

Rumple kissed her back, "There's no one else I'd rather be with." Then he added, "Now and forever."

She smiled. "Now and forever," she agreed.


End file.
